Serene
by kaorismash
Summary: TezuRyo. When it's just them on a lazy day.


**Title:** Serene  
**Summary:** When it's just them on a lazy day.  
**Note: **Was written about a year ago. Therefore is not very good. :(

* * *

In slow rhythmic beats, the cooling breeze rocked the hammock gently from side to side. The dark green material was knotted tightly between two large sakura trees, the fibers stretching out with the heavy weight inside. Encased within the thick canvas was Tezuka, dozing off lightly in the afternoon sunlight. His glasses, on the verge of slipping off the bridge of his nose, glinted, reflecting the glare of the brightly shining sun.

An open book on his chest rose and fell with every silent breath he took. A frown tugged at his lips and Tezuka's brow twitched faintly. He shifted to the left; his right foot was hanging outside of the hammock and was brushing against the tickling grass. His hard covered history book slid down his chest, knocking gently against his arm.

"Buchou." The whisper, faint and with an underlying hint of huskiness, traveled across the garden from the back entrance of the temple. Ryoma blinked slowly, absorbing in the sight of the older boy, swaying gently with the wind. Ryoma sighed and removed his feet from the house slippers. He padded across the cushioned layer of grass, absentmindedly tracing every detail he could from the smooth perfect face.

In a matter of minutes, he was in front of Tezuka, his lithe body blocking the warm rays from reaching the brunette. "Buchou," he said again. This time it was louder than a whisper, but barely.

There was no response, Tezuka slept on.

Ryoma sighed, simply resigning himself to standing there quietly, staring at him. He wasn't sure how long he stood there watching, but he felt his lids becoming heavy. And so he stood there, watching Tezuka through half-lidded eyes, the same molten eyes that swam with passion for tennis. This time however, tennis wasn't on his mind at all.

Seconds, minutes, hours passed by—he wasn't sure of which. All he knew was that he was there, with Tezuka, alone, and that was all he wanted. He was frozen in time and all he could do was watch; just watching the way small shafts of light danced upon the silky brown strands, watching the way Tezuka's left brow twitched every so often, watching the way the wireless spectacles dangled precariously at the tip of his nose, watching as a hand curled around the side of the hardback cover before releasing it, watching as his foot unconsciously moved against the grass, providing more momentum for every graceful swing—

Even before he was aware of it, his arm had moved from his side and was retrieving the book, gently prying lax fingers from around the cover. Ryoma pulled the glasses free from Tezuka's face and set them both onto the ground, spectacles folded neatly on top of the closed book.

Ryoma straightened his spine, satisfied. A cool gust wrapped itself around him, dancing with his hair before moving on. Ryoma frowned, seeing Tezuka's brows narrowing. He needed a blanket, a thin one that would keep Tezuka warm but not make him stifling hot.

Just as he was about to move back towards the house, Ryoma's body froze, suddenly finding himself trapped once again. Only this time it was by dark eyes blinking blearily.

A pale hand moved towards his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Tezuka blinked wonderingly, training his eyes on the slightly blurred image of the teenager before him. He blinked again, meeting the gaze of the person who had once been his kouhai.

Tezuka lay there, studiously trying to make out every detail he could without the help of his glasses. Ryoma stood there, watching lazily through half-lidded eyes as not-so-sharp eyes roamed around his face. Ryoma's lip quirked up—not quite a smile yet not quite a smirk. "Buchou," he breathed, feeling his eyes drooping even more.

Tezuka blinked tiredly, eyes still lax from his afternoon nap. "Aa." He cleared his throat; sleep always made his voice deeper than usual. He titled his head towards the side, a slight difference that not many would've caught. His brow rose a fraction questioningly as he eyed the younger boy.

And then Ryoma smirked, placing one hand on Tezuka's shoulder. He leaned down, breathing out against Tezuka's lips as he swiftly settled into the hammock. His body locked into place above Tezuka's; a strong arm sliding around his waist and another around his shoulders as he buried his face into the crook of Tezuka's neck. Ryoma's legs were on either side of Tezuka's and his arms were resting on Tezuka's shoulders, one hand slowly crawling up to entangle itself within the soft brown hair.

They laid there together in the warmth of the afternoon sun, their breathing synchronizing as Tezuka unconsciously used his foot to rock them from side to side.

He pressed a kiss against Tezuka's neck, licking it once. The arms encircling him tightened, a hand gently brushing against his nape in tender strokes. He didn't need to look to be able to see the smile stretching across Tezuka's face.

Finally Ryoma allowed himself to close his eyes, a smile curling at his lips.


End file.
